To Become A Shining Star
by Scripta Lexicona
Summary: Genesis is determined to find out where the Banora Whites come from and, with Angeal's help, he's going on a nighttime adventure to find out. Part 1 of the "Shining Star" set.


AN: Full credit to Amarissia for this plot bunny as it was hatched from something she said in a conversation. (And thanks again, dear, for giving me the okay to post it!)

Soundtrack: _Fireflies_ by Owl City

* * *

**To Become a Shining Star**

"Come _on_, 'Geal! If we don't hurry we're going to miss her!" Angeal stifled an eye roll but just barely. He was only a few months younger than Genesis and yet sometimes he felt like the older one, by _years_. At the least Genesis certainly had a way of letting his imagination soar off into wild flights of fancy that Angeal had never developed. He also had a way of pulling Angeal along with all of his oddities leading to some of the best memories Angeal had.

So he really couldn't complain. Even though it was half past nine, a whole hour and a half beyond their bedtimes and Genesis was currently standing on tiptoe outside Angeal's window, waiting for him to climb out. Because it was summer the sun had only set a little bit ago, leaving traces of yellowgreenblue on the horizon. But Angeal's window faced east so it was all dark there except for the half-moon ("It's called a 'waxing gibbous'," Genesis had told him proudly, carefully pronouncing the words), glowing brighter as the sun's light disappeared. It made it look like there was a ring of light just around Genesis's hair, picking out the rare strands of silver mixed in with the red and brown and touches of gold.

Angeal could also clearly see his friend's excited eyes, glowing ever-so-faintly with pale blue, and his grin which widened as Angeal pushed his bundle out onto the ground and then climbed up on the windowsill to swing his legs out and follow it. The bundle was two thin but carefully woven blankets rolled around a flashlight (which Angeal now thought they probably wouldn't need, given how bright the moonlight was) and two pieces of bread torn off of the loaf his mother had made yesterday, wrapped in paper.

When Angeal had gained his feet and picked up his bundle by one of the lengths of twine he'd used to hold it shut, Genesis bent and picked up his own, a black leather bag that fitted neatly over his shoulder and almost perfectly matched the black shirt Genesis wore. Angeal wrinkled his nose as they began to walk unhurriedly to their destination. He didn't know if Genesis most often wore black because his father did and he was trying to look like him or because that was just the color his mother bought, but Angeal always thought Genesis looked best with a little color, especially the reds that were like his hair or the blues a shade deeper than his eyes.

Now it was only because of the moon shining on his hair that Angeal could see his friend at all. He moved with purpose though Angeal wasn't entirely sure where they were going tonight. They both tread silently, avoiding leaves and twigs that would crinkle and snap under their feet to give them away, something Angeal couldn't recall having been taught how to do – he just always knew.

It had been hot during the day with the sun beating down brightly and few clouds to shade its beams. Now the air was much cooler and a soft wind blew, making Angeal shiver happily. He'd only been out this late once before (with Genesis on some adventure, of course) and he'd loved it. Everything was quiet and still and yet signs of life were more apparent to him than even in the daylight. Insects buzzed and hummed and flitted by uncaringly; invisible birds sang and called to each other, their voices echoing off of the darkness; the blades of grass and leaves on the shrubs and trees they passed rustled and whispered, seeming even more full of life.

(Sometimes, in a rare fit of imagination, Angeal liked to pretend that plants had a secret life no one knew about, that they truly awoke at night and spoke to each other and laughed and told stories that no person would ever hear because they went to bed too early and didn't know any better. Part of him felt silly for such thoughts; part of him wanted very much to find out if it was true; and part of him felt bad that he would have to disturb the plants' nightly joys to ever do so.)

Genesis was leading them down one of the dirt lanes which led to his family's orchard, the largest in Banora and containing the largest and oldest Banora White tree as well. It was to this one that Genesis brought them, twisting this way and that through the simple maze of the trees making their loops from ground to ground in the curious way that only Banora Whites did. Angeal's father was not an orchard farmer nor was his mother so neither of them had been able to tell him how the trees grew like that when none of the others in the village would.

It was Genesis who explained it to him, having learned it from his father when he questioned persistently. Apparently it was quite a long and delicate process. The seeds had to be carefully harvested from the dumbapples. Even though the trees would produce fruit at any and all times of the year, the best time for gathering seeds was in August, when most of the fruit that hadn't already been plucked was turning rotten and squishy. Each seed was washed and placed into a pan. The pans were thinly layered with the seeds and then put into a cool dark place where they remained through the winter. (Genesis had not been able to find out where this place was but had promised Angeal that one day they would.)

In March, just before spring, the seeds were brought out and washed again. They were placed into little cups pre-filled with a soil mixture that was mostly Banora earth and some nutrient-rich light loam to encourage them to grow. If everything had been successful, they would start to grow and show sprouts within two weeks. As they grew, they were carefully tended and transferred to larger and larger containers as needed.

When the trees had reached about five feet tall (which took a rather long time) and were beginning to show signs of bending, they were finally moved outdoors to an orchard. The placement of each tree was very carefully planned and coordinated. Each tree needed to have a mate appropriate to its own size and in alignment with its bending, as well as the appropriate gender. Only male trees produced pollen while only females bore fruit. So they were paired and then planted with the curves facing toward each other. The idea was that when they grew large enough, the tops would meet in the middle, forming the signature arch.

Of course, that also took quite a bit of time and the trees were weak when they were so young so supports were required to be built and arranged to help hold up the tops as they grew and steadily bent even further. The supports were moved as needed and gradually, as the tops started to touch – assuming the two trees had been lined up correctly – they were removed one by one to wean the trees from their presence.

Eventually, if everything went as it should, the tops of the trees met and intertwined and, in what seemed an incredibly short amount of time given how long everything else took, began to meld their branches together into one solid beam of white, supported at each end by the trunks planted firmly in the ground and drawing nutrients and life from each. It took another two or three years after the initial stages of melding until any dumbapples were produced.

Considering how long and delicate the process was, it was little surprise that hardly any Banora Whites were successfully grown by these means and few if any reproduced by a more natural means. It often made Angeal wonder how they had come about in the first place without human interference when things were so tricky. Then he had the odd thought that maybe the trees didn't _want_ to grow any more of themselves. Maybe they liked their numbers. Maybe they were irritated at people for messing with them in the first place. And then Angeal would roll his eyes at himself and go back to tending his mother's flowers.

All of this was fact and even if no one knew exactly when or how the first Banora White grew, they knew that they were very special trees that produced very special apples. Except now, apparently, Genesis had another idea about where the dumbapples came from.

"We can sit here and watch," Genesis was saying as he set his bag down by one base of the old tree and surveyed the location in satisfaction.

Angeal dropped his bundle as well, crouching down to untie the strings and unroll his blankets. He also took the opportunity to question his friend about what, exactly, they were doing. Genesis had "explained" before but it was in a flurry of excited babbling and Angeal hadn't understood any of what he was talking about, really.

"What are we doing out here?"

Genesis heaved a long-suffering sigh that he'd most certainly learned from his father and took a pose that Angeal recognized from his mother when she was preparing to give Genesis another lecture.

"We're here to watch the Goddess put the dumbapples on the tree."

Angeal squinted in confusion as he spread out one of the blankets, making sure to carefully nestle the flashlight and bread in a nook between two roots.

"Who is the Goddess?"

"She's a bringer of good things," Genesis answered and Angeal could see his eyes sparkling in an excited way that Angeal had never seen before. As he talked, the sparkles danced even more and more excitedly and Angeal got a little worried about the way Genesis looked although he wasn't quite sure why. "I found a book in my father's study, an old book. It's a story about three friends and the Goddess. One of the friends is a hero." His eyes shone especially bright when he said that and Angeal could understand – Genesis had always said he wanted to be a hero, to save people and to be the greatest fighter in the whole world.

"The Goddess is very kind to those who love her and she strikes down those who disappoint her. She's everywhere and in everything. She can change and create fate." Angeal wasn't entirely sure what that meant and he didn't think that Genesis really was either.

"I've never heard of her," Angeal spoke instead.

"I hadn't either until I found the book," Genesis admitted, shaking his head. "But I heard Father talking about her once."

"What does she look like?" Angeal asked, settling on his blanket and drawing his knees up to wrap his arms around while he stared up at Genesis.

A peaceful smile – again an expression Angeal had never seen before – spread across Genesis's face.

"She's beautiful, the most beautiful thing you could ever see. She has long, long pale hair like sunlight and moonbeams. Her face is pale but rosy in her cheeks. Her eyes are pale, too, blue or green or both, but bright at the same time and deep with knowledge. She wears a long gown but covers it with armor because she's a warrior. She's the strongest and most powerful being on the planet."

Genesis had always been gifted with words for his age and Angeal could see a hazy picture of the Goddess in his mind, the pale hair framing a perfectly symmetrical face, long dark lashes blinking slowly over those intelligent eyes, lightly tinted lips curving in a gracious smile as she held out her hand.

"Why do you think she puts the apples on the trees?" Angeal wasn't sure he believed in the Goddess like Genesis seemed to, but he was curious for the sake of his friend and didn't really understand why someone who was so powerful and important would take the time to put apples on trees in a little village like Banora.

"Well, think about it." Genesis ticked the points off on his fingers as he spoke. "No one ever sees dumbapples grow. It's just one day they're not there and the next day they are. Everything else you can see growing. And we already know dumbapples are special. So I think they're special because they belong to the Goddess and she's here and she's the one who puts them on the trees. And I want to see her do it. I want to see her."

"You think she's here? In Banora?" Angeal asked incredulously despite himself. Nothing special and no one important was _ever_ in Banora. (Except the dumbapples.) It was hard to believe an actual _Goddess_ would be here.

"I do," Genesis replied with a decisive nod.

"Why?" Angeal felt like a mimic bird asking the same question so many times but he couldn't help himself.

To his surprise, Genesis quieted down, his excitement dampened. He worried his lower lip between his teeth for a few moments and looked like he was trying to make a decision.

"I'll show you later," he finally answered. "Right now, let's count the dumbapples so we'll know when she puts one on, just in case she's invisible or something. I don't think she really is," he hastened to add, "but she might not want us knowing her secret."

Angeal shrugged easily and got up to help, starting at one end while Genesis started at the other. They met in the middle and tallied their numbers, then switched sides and counted again, just to be sure. Each time they came up with twenty dumbapples.

"Alright, so now we'll keep watch. But just in case we don't see her, we'll count again before we go back home." Angeal nodded in agreement and then they both sat down on his blanket to wait for the Goddess. Genesis dug into his bag and pulled out two energy drinks and two apple pastries. Angeal knew they both must have come from the Rhapsodos's cook, Liam.

Liam was a tall, skinny man that both Genesis and Angeal liked very much, though Genesis perhaps liked him better simply because he could spend more time with him. Liam always hummed pretty little melodies as he worked and always wore tank tops and slacks, with a black apron tied around his waist that hung halfway down his shins. His shoulder length hair was pulled back while he cooked and was dyed a permanent pink. He had told them it was that color due to a materia accident when he was a teenager but he told so many tall tales Angeal wasn't sure if that was true. Liam smiled and laughed a lot and his brilliant green eyes danced, sometimes half-hidden by the gold-wire glasses he wore when he had to read a recipe.

Mostly, Angeal liked Liam because he gave Genesis someone to talk to when he couldn't get away to see Angeal. Angeal wasn't sure exactly what happened in the Rhapsodos house all the time but he knew that Genesis's parents weren't always nice to him, didn't always pay attention to him when he needed it. There were times when Genesis would come over and be very quiet and Angeal would know that he had had a Bad Day; so he would sit with Genesis and just be with him or sometimes tell him stories (never, Angeal thought, as good as the ones Genesis or Liam could tell) or Genesis might watch him while he cared for his mother's garden, pulling weeds and watering flowers and making things neat and tidy.

But when Genesis couldn't come over like that, he would sneak into the kitchen and Liam would make him laugh and feed him sweets and the energy drinks Liam liked so much. From what Genesis had told Angeal about their conversations, it sounded like Liam never treated Genesis with pity or sympathy which Angeal sensed was probably a good thing, although he didn't know why. But he thought maybe it was because Genesis needed places to escape, to forget that he was the son of Brighton and Danielle Rhapsodos and forget that sometimes they were disappointed in him and sometimes they showed no interest in _his_ interests or accomplishments unless they were related to things his parents deemed important.

Angeal didn't think today had been a Bad Day but nevertheless they sat in silence while they ate the pastries and the moon climbed higher and higher in the sky, blotting out stars along the way. The wind blew a little more strongly and Angeal shivered again, this time genuinely cold. He unrolled the second blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders after offering Genesis a half. Genesis shook his head and Angeal thought he probably wanted to be able to spring up at a moment's notice if the Goddess appeared.

Cocooned and comfortable, Angeal began to doze off until he was roused by a hand shaking his shoulder and a voice whining in his ear, " '_Ge-e-e-eal…._"

" 'M sorry," he murmured, rubbing his eyes with a fist and stifling a small yawn.

"I don't want you to miss her," Genesis pouted, increasing Angeal's feeling of guilt.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was just up early this morning. I want to see her, too, Genesis, I promise." That went a long way toward appeasing his friend as did the genuine smile Angeal cast him.

"Well, here. Drink one of these." Genesis passed over one of the energy drinks and Angeal willingly opened it and took a sip although he didn't really think it would help. Despite the fact that the can claimed to "Keep you focused, alert and full of energy for your most strenuous and demanding of days!" Angeal had never felt any real effect from drinking the bubbly citrus-like juice. For that matter, he was sure Genesis didn't feel anything either, but he liked them because Liam handed them over as treats from his own supply.

"Your father was home a bit ago wasn't he?" Genesis brought up, just a hint of tentativeness in his voice. Whether it was because Genesis's own relationship with his father was so … unfamilial or because Angeal didn't often see his own father and therefore got a bit sad thinking about him, Genesis always seemed to be just a little hesitant when he asked Angeal about the rarely-seen man. Angeal didn't mind; actually he thought it was sweet in a way. He knew Genesis didn't want him to think about anything even a little bit painful but at the same time Genesis wanted to know what he seemed to be missing out on.

And besides, he was obviously using the topic as a means to keep Angeal from falling asleep again and the younger boy couldn't begrudge him that.

"Yeah, just for a couple of days. He said it'll probably be another few weeks until he gets back again." Angeal wasn't entirely sure what his father did. Mostly, he just knew that his father had been a fighter, a soldier long ago and now found whatever work he was able to in order to support his family. Unfortunately, he had no talent for tending the orchards nor a head for business to be part of running the factory that processed the unique Banora Whites. So instead he traveled and performed whatever jobs he could find and was able to do. He didn't usually tell Angeal what any of these jobs were although Angeal knew that he'd done some moving and delivering of supplies for a company and once acted as a bodyguard for an elderly lady.

(That last one had sounded rather noble to Angeal until his father explained it further with a number of chuckles and an unsuppressable smile. It seemed the woman was in the habit of wearing extravagant and overly-done wigs and was in constant fear that wild chocobos – of which there _were_ none in the area – would think they were gysahl greens and come along and snatch them right off her head. The job ended only when Angeal's father swore upon his honor that there were no, nor had there ever _been_, chocobos in that part of Gaia.

She was no doubt also convinced by the fact that he gave her the number to his rarely-used PHS, promising to replace any wigs consumed by wild chocobos.)

"Did you do anything fun?"

Angeal nodded with a tiny smile. "He taught me some new sword strikes and parries and a couple of stances." That was the manner in which Angeal and his father typically spent their limited time together. Both were quiet souls – Angeal's father nearly to the point of being stoic – though equally warm and so words were not carelessly tossed back and forth between them, instead reserved for only the most important things. And Angeal cherished the lessons his father taught him as he recognized it as a manner of showing that his father cared, even if that wasn't the way other fathers in Banora did it.

"Ooo, you're going to show me, right?" Genesis's eyes shone eagerly in the dark and he sat up on his knees to peer compellingly at Angeal and clutch at his arm.

"Yeah, of course," Angeal chuckled. "When do I ever not show you new things?"

Genesis smirked at him then. "Well, we all know I'm the best fighter. You might decide to keep something to yourself to try and take an advantage." Angeal just rolled his eyes at that and lightly batted Genesis upside the head. He yelped and rubbed the spot in mock patheticness before getting a sudden gleam to his bright eyes that Angeal knew well.

"That's clearly an act of war, Hewley. Now we must duel!" Genesis sprang to his feet, all excited energy and irrepressibleness.

"Genesis," Angeal began pleadingly while getting to his own feet, "we'll make too much noise – we'll get caught…."

"Nonsense!" Genesis declared haughtily. "This will be a bare hands duel using stealth techniques. The first one pinned for three seconds wins. Come on now! We'll count off to ten in opposite directions and then the fight begins!" The way the moonlight brought out the white of Genesis's wide grin made him look positively devilish. And it also let Angeal know he wasn't getting out of this without a fight of an entirely different sort, so he stifled a sigh and obediently stood back-to-back with Genesis.

"Ready? One … two … three…." Genesis's voice faded off as he moved farther away and began counting silently in his head, Angeal doing the same. When he reached ten, Angeal ducked behind a tree to put himself out of Genesis's line of sight and then froze. He had absolutely no intention of moving – Genesis's biggest weakness in this kind of thing was his inability to restrain himself. He was always raring to go, always wanting to be mobile, in action. Angeal, on the other hand, had been instilled by his parents with the virtue of patience and had little problem waiting for something when he knew it would be to his advantage.

Leaning his head back on the trunk, Angeal closed his eyes, letting his senses of sound and scent bring him the information he needed. For the moment there was only the swaying and rustling of the leaves, the lone cries of nocturnal birds and chirps of tiny insects, and the sweet gentle fragrances of dumbapples surrounding him. Angeal soaked it all up as a rare treat, something to think over and recreate when he was properly back in bed instead of out here to enjoy it.

_Shhssh_. Had Angeal been a cat, his left ear would have twitched. As it was he merely shallowed his breathing, concentrating fully on the space to his left side where the disturbance had been. There it was again, definitely to the left and just slightly behind him. Closer now, closer….

Angeal suddenly spun away from the tree and opened his eyes in time to see Genesis go sailing by where he had been standing. Genesis hit the dirt and did an awkward somersault to regain his feet (a technique they had only been taught recently and were still trying to perfect). He managed the twirl to face Angeal once again much more gracefully, one corner of his mouth curving up. Angeal felt a faint answering smile tug at his own face as he stilled once again.

Genesis observed him keenly for a moment, trying to gauge what Angeal's reactions would be to his movements. He feinted once or twice and, though it was hard, Angeal managed to remain still, ignoring his body's instincts to move to match Genesis. _Just have to wait…._

Finally, Genesis's patience broke and he came flying at Angeal, almost literally. The move was a new one and caught Angeal off-guard despite the attention he'd been paying to avoid exactly that. However, he didn't really see how he could have anticipated Genesis springing as high as he could into the air while flinging himself at Angeal. The result was that Genesis came down on top of Angeal rather spectacularly, knocking him flat on his back and winding him a bit.

It was a good plan to get Angeal down, but unfortunately for Genesis he didn't think through how to _keep_ Angeal on the ground. Though Angeal was younger, he was build just a bit stockier than Genesis's slim frame and had little trouble rolling Genesis off of him before the three-second deadline was up. Genesis growled in frustration, auburn tumbling into his eyes. He made to get up and try again but before he could Angeal flopped down on top of him and he grunted in discomfort. It was perhaps a bit unfair of Angeal to use his greater mass like that but as much of a sense of fairness and honor as his parents had taught him, well … he was still a child. And winning was winning.

So while Genesis squirmed and flailed and spluttered, Angeal just grinned and counted to three nice and slowly. When he finally let Genesis up, he was worried may have pushed too much. Genesis was his best friend, sure, but he could be mercurial and had a flaring temper that not even Angeal was entirely safe from. But after a minute of prissily straightening and dusting off his shirt and finger-combing his hair, Genesis deigned to look at Angeal and gave him a rueful smile.

"Someday I'm going to be so fast and so powerful that it won't matter how big your butt is – I'll still tromp you." This was delivered with a final toss of the hair and a pose with hands on hips and back very straight.

Angeal snorted lightly. "I do not have a 'big butt'. And I'll still be able to beat you no matter _how_ fast you are because you have no patience." Angeal didn't cap his statement by sticking his tongue out but it was a near thing. Instead he smiled, his tiny kind gesture that Genesis was never able to resist returning in kind. He couldn't this time either and Angeal was glad to see the soft, almost shy smile that only seemed to appear around him.

"Come on, let's go back. We might have missed her," Genesis urged, suddenly remembering why they were out far past bedtime in the first place. He trotted off and Angeal followed, eyes drawn to the shining hair bobbing above the almost invisible body hurrying before him in the darkness.

When they returned to the tree, they counted the dumbapples once again but still returned with twenty and Genesis breathed a sigh of relief. They settled on the ground by their packs, looking up at the stars in silence until Genesis shifted uncomfortably, rubbing at his left shoulder blade awkwardly. Angeal frowned in concern.

"Is it bothering you again?" he asked, shifting to face Genesis.

"I think I just landed on it funny when you pinned me," Genesis answered, no malice in his voice. "It hasn't really ached much in a while. Hang on." Genesis opened his top two buttons so that he could reach under his collar to the skin of his back. His fingers moved chaotically under the silky fabric while his face twisted with concentration and mild discomfort. A huff, a brief gritting of teeth, and Genesis withdrew his hand, holding something small between his fingers. Silently, he passed it over to Angeal who took it automatically despite the apprehension he was feeling.

It was a feather, downy soft and blacker than the night sky. Angeal twirled it slowly by its tiny shaft, noticing the smudges of rusty stickiness that rubbed off onto his fingertips.

"Genesis … what is this? Where did it come from?" There was a kind of numb alarm in Angeal that he didn't really understand.

"It came from me, 'Geal," Genesis replied with an empty smirk.

"I don't understand."

"I don't either," Genesis spoke quietly with a sigh.

"Did you tell anyone?"

Genesis shrank in on himself, his shoulders tense and one hand clutching his shirt closed.

"They'll find out anyway," he finally said and, though Angeal didn't like that answer, he didn't press either. He understood that Genesis was scared. He was, too, even if he didn't quite know why.

Silence descended again, this one a little less companionable than before as they both tried not to think about how strange they were and what it might mean. Angeal just didn't know _why_ they were so different from the other children in the village and why they were discouraged from playing with them and why those people sometimes came to look at them and why his mother sometimes had that sadness in her eyes when she thought he wasn't looking. So many why's and no answers. Honestly, Angeal wasn't really sure he wanted to know the answers. Especially not if it meant that Genesis would be hurt.

Feeling weighed down by all these things that he couldn't put a name to, Angeal cast frantically for a way to break the mood. He thought of something almost immediately, something he would have told Genesis about eventually but had been hesitantly optimistic about and he wanted to have that to himself for just a little. But if it would make Genesis smile….

"My father brought something for me from Gongaga," Angeal began tentatively.

Genesis turned to him with a raised brow.

"Where's 'Gongaga'?"

"Um, west, at the bottom of the western continent, I think. Actually, Dad said it's almost in line with Banora."

"Hmm." Genesis looked up at the sky, his head tilted toward the west as though his eyes could span the miles so he could see this place. "I've never heard of it. Must not be very important."

Angeal snorted gently. "Genesis, the only place you've really heard of other than here is Midgar."

"Well, we'll see," was Genesis's non-answer as he studied his fingernails disinterestedly. Angeal turned his head so that Genesis wouldn't see him rolling his eyes. Sometimes, when Genesis didn't know something, he brushed it off as unimportant because Genesis liked to think that he knew _everything_. Which Angeal thought was silly because Genesis _was_ very smart but he was only seven. How could he expect to know everything there was to know already?

"So what was it, then?"

"It was a wood carving. Of, um, a puppy." Angeal could feel his cheeks flushing and he stared determinedly at his hands which were worrying a leaf; but he could still seeing Genesis out of the corner of his eyes, turning to him with a broad grin.

"Oh?"

"Well, h-he said that there's something, um, important he has to … to get for me first, but … well, after that…."

"Aww, 'Geal…." Genesis slung an arm around Angeal and pulled him close, ruffling his short, dark hair. "Don't worry. You'll get your puppy someday. And he'll jump on and slobber all over everything, and be over-eager and clumsy, and absolutely worship the ground you walk on. You'll be inseparable." Genesis sniffed histrionically. "And I will have to find a new best friend because he'll take up all your time and you'll love him more and I have no wish to be drooled on."

"He will not _drool_ on you."

"Of course he will. All puppies drool, especially when they're excited. And I'm just so fabulous he won't be able to help himself."

"He _will not_," Angeal insisted indignantly. "I'm going to teach him real well."

"Really well," Genesis cut in, absentmindedly correcting Angeal who went on as though he hadn't been interrupted.

"He won't drool on anything and he'll only jump up when I want him to. He'll be the smartest, kindest and best puppy ever. And I'll love him forever," he finished with a secret smile tugging at his mouth. Genesis saw the look on his friend's face and ceased his teasing, smiling himself. Angeal had wanted a puppy since he was three and had been bowled over – both literally and figuratively – by a member of a litter birthed by a stray passing through the village. He'd begged and begged but his parents just weren't able to provide for an extra mouth, even one that belonged to a body with four paws. Genesis had almost asked his own parents for a puppy just so Angeal could be near one but ultimately didn't. He didn't think his parents would allow it anyway – they certainly wouldn't want to care for it – and even that young he recognized that Angeal wanted, _needed_, the puppy to be his and his alone.

And so Angeal patiently waited and quietly hoped. If Genesis's dream was to be the greatest hero in the world, Angeal's less lofty ambition was to someday have his puppy. In the meantime, he kept his eyes peeled for more strays, playing if he got the chance. Despite Angel's serene nature, he always preferred the rowdier, more energetic puppies. They were just so entertaining and endearing and lovable.

The boys settled against the trunk, peacefully still, Angeal searching the sky for his puppy in the stars and Genesis searching for something known only to him. The night was growing colder yet and this time when Angeal offered Genesis part of his second blanket, Genesis accepted and they leaned together under the coarse-soft material.

Angeal was starting to fall asleep again when Genesis suddenly spoke and he embarrassedly tried to hide his startlement.

"Angeal?"

"Yeah?"

"I think maybe … maybe I'll grow wings."

"What?" There just really wasn't any other question Angeal could give to such a statement. It was completely outside his realms of comprehension. His mouth was gaping open as he looked at his friend who he had known his whole life but was beginning to think perhaps he didn't know at all. His friend who, though he seemed a little uncertain, was still gazing up at the sky with a calm face, eyes perfectly reflecting the light.

"This thing with my back … and the feathers…. That wasn't the first feather, you know. So maybe … it's meant to be something more, something special. And if it is … I'd like it to be wings. Because then I could fly, up to the heavens. And maybe I could fly high enough that I'd become a star and the Goddess would see me shining up there and know that I'm her warrior."

"Genesis … I don't … I don't understand. You want wings? But … humans don't have wings. They don't fly."

"I know, Angeal. But that's what it means to be special, to be unique. You can do things that other people can't. It's not a bad thing. You don't have to be scared."

But Angeal was. All he could think about was all those children who had mothers and fathers who were around all the time and who played games with them that were simple and silly and had puppies and kittens and didn't have men in dark suits with solemn faces coming to see them and men in white coats shining lights in their faces and measuring them and taking samples of their blood. Angeal didn't _want_ to be different, even if it was special and unique. He didn't _want_ to change, the way he was afraid that he someday might. He wanted to be like them, to enjoy the simple things in life like tending gardens, rescuing stray animals, hanging out with his friends (_friend_).

And he was scared because he realized if Genesis _did_ grow wings, if he _did_ go away, Angeal would follow him because Genesis was his best friend, his only friend, and Genesis understood things about Angeal that no one else did. And no one else would or could take care of Genesis like Angeal. Angeal didn't want to go away from here into the unknown but he would have to if Genesis left. Because they might be their parents' children, but they belonged most to each other.

"How do you know, Genesis?" Angeal demanded, the mild but rising panic in his mind making the question harsher than Angeal would normally ever have spoken. "Even if … even if you grow w-wings, what makes you think that you would become a star? That the Goddess would see you?"

Genesis wrapped his arms around his knees, still staring only at the starscape, not Angeal.

"I heard someone talking to my father once. I wasn't supposed to be listening; they didn't know I was there. The man told my father that she had fallen from the sky long, long ago, fallen from the stars. That she was here, now. That she held the answers if they could just unravel them. I didn't know who he was talking about until I found that book. It was the Goddess. She must have fallen from heaven and gotten stuck here. And maybe, if I can grow wings, if I can fly high enough, she'll see me shining up there and know that I love her and I believe in her and I will be her hero. And if she sees me there … maybe I can help her find her way back."

Colors and sensations were swirling around Angeal, making thought impossible. He suddenly felt that things were distinctly unreal, like he was in a dream. Maybe he was. Maybe he'd never gotten out of bed tonight and snuck out his window to have an adventure with Genesis. Maybe he was still in bed, asleep. Except … he knew that wasn't true. He was just so confused and he didn't know what to think about anything right now. Genesis wanted to grow wings … because of a Goddess … but humans didn't _have_ wings … it wasn't right … was it?

One thing drifted to the top of this chaotic whirlpool and Angeal seized it instantly, the part of him that quietly sought logic and rationality in all things pressing forward and restoring reason. Mostly, anyway.

"Genesis," Angeal began, shifting so that he could see eye to eye with the other boy more easily (even though Genesis still wasn't looking at him), "you said before that you knew the Goddess was here, that there was something you could show me that proved it. I want to see it. Will you show me? Please?"

For several long minutes Genesis just continued gazing at the sky, breathing slowly, blinking rarely, and if Angeal had been any other person he might have been offended thinking he was being ignored; but he knew Genesis too well for that. The older boy was gathering himself, preparing to share something deep and special. Even with Angeal Genesis still wasn't completely open – he still had trouble sharing meaningful things, perhaps believing they would be taken away or, worse, ridiculed.

Genesis's response was abrupt, as they tended to be when he found himself in these infrequent situations. All his considering finished, he apparently felt no need to delay any longer.

"We'd better run – it's a bit far and I don't want to miss her." Angeal merely nodded and stood when Genesis did, taking a moment to sloppily fold the blanket. He nodded again to show Genesis he was ready and then they were running, Genesis starting without warning but Angeal following easily nonetheless. Their running wasn't silent like their walking; they hadn't yet learned how to avoid the telltale snaps and crunches at those speeds (speeds which the other children couldn't hope to keep up with). Each signal boomed through Angeal like the klaxon of a bell and the irrational part of himself kept crying out that they would be caught at any moment even though Angeal _knew_ there wasn't anyone else out at this time, especially not in the Rhapsodos' orchard.

They travelled through the orchard and all the way to the factory which was nearly on the other side of Banora, quite winded but still running at the same steady pace. It wasn't until they hit the line where the grass of the fields gave way to the dirt of the well-travelled factory grounds that Genesis held up a hand and they immediately halted, breathing heavily but surprisingly quietly. When their breath and heart-rates had slowed closer to normal level, Genesis beckoned again, leading Angeal around the back of the building, toward the tree line that edged close along the rarely-used footpath bordering the high metal wall.

Dark amorphous shapes revealed themselves to be busted crates and rusted barrels randomly and haphazardly stacked along the wall at odd intervals. They skirted the obstacles carefully, making their way to the other end of the factory until Genesis once again halted at what seemed to Angeal to be an arbitrary point. He took a moment to flash a small smile at Angeal before pushing aside a stack of crates, the action causing his skin to be washed in a sudden faint green glow. Angeal felt an expression of utter bemusement cross his face but then Genesis was pointing and Angeal circled around the crates to see what he had revealed.

However, seeing did nothing to tell Angeal _what_ it was. It was … like a fountain of light, rising straight up in the air nearly half Angeal's height. It didn't bubble and flow like a fountain of water but there was movement, subtle and entrancing upward sweeps that tapered off from the outside in to one single beam in the middle. Little sparks like fireflies floated gently and erratically around the fountain, winking in and out of existence with little fuss or pomp. The base was a circular pool of light, rippling outward with the motion of the beams.

"Genesis," Angeal breathed, awed and uncertain. "What … is it?"

"I don't know," Genesis answered softly. "But I'm sure it's the Goddess's." He reached a hand out toward the light and Angeal choked off an alarmed noise, reaching out his own hand to stop the other boy.

"Genesis!—"

"It's alright, 'Geal. Look." Slowly and carefully (more, Angeal thought, to reassure him than because Genesis was nervous or afraid), Genesis put his hand into the light, gracefully curling his fingers and twisting his wrist through the undisturbed rays to show they were doing no harm. For several minutes he did this, seemingly entranced by the vision of part of his body bathed but unaffected by the verdant flow; and for several minutes Angeal wrestled with himself, wanting to experience it, too, but not wanting to touch it at the same time. He didn't feel a sense of evil or danger from it, but still he couldn't identify _what_ it was and that automatically made it Not Safe. So Angeal ignored the impulse, bit his lip and waited.

Finally, Genesis pulled his hand back, just as slowly as he'd stuck it in the light, and a few tendrils wisped out, swirling around his wrist and fingers before retreating back into their source.

"It must be the Goddess's," Genesis spoke quietly, like he was responding to some question Angeal had asked. "It's so pure and so beautiful and it feels … it feels like it's a part of me, like I'm a part of it. It's good, Angeal. I'm sure it's hers. What other explanation could there be?" And Angeal had no answer, of course. He had no evidence to examine to come to a conclusion other than that which he could see; and what he saw he had no knowledge of, no comparisons to make. So really, there was no reason it couldn't be what Genesis said.

"Alright, Genesis," Angeal finally said. And that was all that was needed between them. Genesis's face lit with an incredible smile, highlighted by the green of the odd fountain and the silver-white of the moon. Angeal returned the gesture with a serene one of his own and in that moment everything was right. Yes, Angeal was still worried, deep down inside, but that was constant prickling that never truly went away and he didn't think was likely to. Whatever was going on, with Genesis, with both of them, it would all be alright. It had to be. Angeal just had to believe it, to hold onto his dreams (as simple as they were), and do his best to make his family proud. Eventually, he was sure, he would find the answers to all his questions.

Genesis gasped suddenly, his face falling into a stricken expression. "We have to get back; I don't want to miss her." Quickly but carefully he replaced the crates and then the children were streaking back off to the orchard, even faster than before. Their movements were really making noise this time but Genesis didn't seem to care a whit and Angeal's sense of panic was more in empathy with Genesis's at the thought of having missed the Goddess's arrival than worry over them being heard.

Back at the tree they wasted no time in counting the dumbapples and when they had finished Genesis let out a moan of loss.

"Twenty-three," he croaked. "There're twenty-three. She was here and I didn't see her. I wasn't here." His eyes were sparkling again but Angeal knew that this time it was due to excess moisture and a pang of guilt and regret echoed in his stomach.

"Genesis, I'm so sorry," he offered uselessly. If he hadn't been so confused and distressed, if he hadn't insisted that Genesis show him his secret _now_, they would have been here, where they were supposed to be.

His friend turned sad eyes upon him, but Angeal could read no anger or blame in the pale, luminescent blue.

"It's not your fault, Angeal," Genesis said clearly. "I understand why you wanted to see the proof like I did, and I wanted to show you. And there's no way of being sure that even if we had been here, the Goddess would have revealed herself." He turned away for a moment to stare up at the branches and murmur something which Angeal couldn't quite hear although he thought he heard the words "not worthy." "And anyway, it's not like we can't try again, someday. The apples will always grow and the Goddess will be here. I'll find her." Angeal noted the change in pronoun but didn't mind. This was clearly important to Genesis in a way that it never would be to Angeal. The Goddess was Genesis's puppy, Angeal thought with an inner smile. And he hoped that one day they would both have their dreams.

"Here, help me up," Genesis requested. He was standing under the center of the arch where the new dumbapples had appeared. Angeal joined him, bending over slightly and bracing his hands on his knees so that Genesis could climb up on his back and stand on his shoulders. Genesis wobbled, steadied himself, and then suddenly jumped, snatching one of the Banora Whites and landing awkwardly on the ground. He placed the dumbapple on the blanket then gestured to Angeal again. They repeated the process two more times until Genesis had collected all three new dumbapples. Angeal wasn't entirely sure _why_ Genesis had felt the need to take those particular pieces of fruit but his unasked quandary was solved a moment later.

"These are special dumbapples," Genesis declared, holding one up and twisting it in the moonlight to see the way it glowed on the purpurite skin. "They're new; they're full of life and the Goddess's touch." Solemnly, he picked up one of the other Banora Whites and handed it to Angeal. "You have one; I'll take another."

"What about the third?" Angeal asked, accepting the offered fruit.

"I'll save it. And I'll wait for someone special to give it to."

"But it'll go bad, Genesis."

Genesis's hair gently ruffled as he shook his head. "I know a way to keep it fresh. My father has materia and I know where he keeps it. I'll use that."

Angeal gaped at him. "You don't know how to use materia!"

"It can't be _that_ hard," Genesis scoffed. "I'm sure I just need to practice a bit and it'll be fine."

Angeal snorted. "Yeah, well, don't call me when you blow yourself up."

"Oh, but Ange-e-e-e-eal, you're my bestest frie-e-e-e-end. You'd _have_ to help me. It's a law, I'm sure of it." Genesis grinned cheekily and Angeal didn't bother to hide his eye roll. "I'll figure it out and I won't blow myself up, promise." Angeal couldn't help smiling at that although he did manage to suppress the chuckle that wanted to slip out.

"Alright, alright. Just leave me out of it. I don't need to be in even _more_ trouble." That statement was met with a dismissive hand gesture and a "Pssh" from Genesis.

"Let's just enjoy the moment," he insisted, raising his dumbapple. "To us and to adventures." Angeal echoed the gesture and the sentiment and then they each took a bite.

They ended up on the ground again, sitting on the blanket as they slowly savored their Banora Whites. Angeal had always thought that this tree in particular gave the best dumbapples though he had rarely had them because he didn't like to ask and he certainly wasn't going to just take them. (Genesis would probably have gladly made off with dozens at a time if he knew how much Angeal liked them but the younger boy definitely didn't want to give his friend any _more_ ways to get into mischief.)

There was something to be said for the freshness of the fruit as well. Angeal had never had one this young before and while the flesh was perhaps not quite the texture he preferred, the juice seemed to be at a height of sweetness, bursting and sweeping over his tongue in a pleasant wave with each bite.

For several long minutes there were only the sounds of crunching bites and contented swallows mingling with the usual nighttime symphony of noise. Eventually they came to the cores and with sighs of both delight and regret they took their final bites. Genesis took what was left, wrapped them and put them in his bag to dispose of later. (They didn't want to leave them on the ground in case they were found later and another was blamed for their indiscretion.)

"I'm glad you're out here with me tonight," Genesis spoke after several more minutes of silence during which they settled back against the tree and wrapped the second blanket around themselves.

"Mmm, me, too," Angeal replied vaguely. It was far, _far_ past the time he was generally asleep and with all the confusion and excitement and running around, well, he just didn't have it in himself to keep his eyes open any longer, even though he knew he had to, he needed to get up and go back home….

And that was how Angeal and Genesis were found early the next morning by one of the orchard workers, huddled under the blanket against the tree, Genesis's head tucked beneath Angeal's on his shoulder. The worker – shaking his head in amusement – got the head tender who woke the boys with a bellow and then proceeded to march them back to their houses by the ear, lecturing them the entire time. More lectures followed once they were home, of course, and each boy was forbidden playtime with the other for a week and treats for two.

But despite all that, Angeal couldn't regret that night, the things he'd learned and, most importantly, the time he'd spent with his best friend which was theirs and theirs alone, forever and always. And maybe someday they would solve the mystery of the Banora Whites. Together.

* * *

AN: For some reason I was having trouble coming up with a description of the purple skin of the dumbapples. All I could think of was other fruit (plum, grape, etc.) My mother's (joking) suggestion was PMS 26-65 which is apparently the lot number for a food dye. I ended up going with purpurite because I liked the meaning I found of the stone.

19 Aug '09


End file.
